Spotlight of Your Life
by TheCrowMaiden
Summary: Cavendish decides there's someone whose attention he HAS to have. The third -and final!- story that starts with "Clown Prince" and "Blood and Sweat and Metal". I was jotting down tidbits and it turned into a full story. I think that's all the Cavenbecca I have in me for now! I've realized my endings are rarely closed/conclusive. These are kind of wishful thinking fanfics.


There was still rubble in the streets, but the bodies were gone and the blood washed away. Some buildings that had close ties to Dolflamingo and his supporters bore signs of deliberate damage; vandalized by the furious citizens. The acrid smell of burned things that couldn't be named still floated on the air when the wind was still, and people counted family members and their blessings. Dressrosa was lucky to have not been levelled by the magnitude of those who had fought there.

Angrily shredding the petals off a rose, Cavendish lounged on a bench in the royal palace. He would look like a vision from a dream if not the scowl on his face, petals strewn around him with the sunlight making his blond hair sparkle. People were bustling around the halls all carrying different items and chattering about the revolution. They all gave the fuming swordsman a wide berth.

Over and over the words "Straw Hat", "Trafalgar Law", and "the royal family" were tossed around as the people ran by. Some whispered, some yelled. News was interspersed with rumours and rumours were challenged by facts and facts were few and in between. The racket was giving Cavendish a headache, but that wasn't the reason he had decimated an entire vase of flowers.

Ever since the royal family had been re-established, he hadn't seen Rebecca alone so much as once. There were meetings and reunions and far too much time spent thanking and fussing over the bastards from the Worst Generation. Even normal citizens were seeing more of the princess than he was, and they especially didn't deserve to see her after all the vitriol they spewed in the Colloseum. He fervently wished he had his collection of wanted posters to stab.

He shouldn't have brought her back to the palace. He should have brought her along as another member of the Beautiful Pirates. Having the attention and spotlight stolen from him made him angry as it always had, but something about having her attention taken away was worse. When she had looked at him in the street after he had held her, he had wanted her to look at him always.

Another grab at the vase yielded nothing but stems, so Cavendish got up with a dramatic whirl of his coat and decided to see if there was a garden nearby. It took him a few minutes to find it, but his temper didn't improve during the walk and he stomped out into the courtyard area in as bad a mood as ever.

A red rose bush bloomed near the archway, and he cut off a stem with his sword. It was a tricky business, whittling the thorns off with Durandal, but he wasn't about to carry around a rose that looked like he hacked it off a wild bush (even if that was exactly what he had done).

With the flower finally up to his standards, he began to pace the garden, absently chewing on the petals as he did. He didn't want to leave Dressrosa before the news had been written up and risk losing his chance of fame, but he didn't particularly want to hang around when he was being mostly ignored either. Maybe he should track down the press himself and get it over with.

Having finished off his rose as he wandered, he looked around for another one. Maybe there was a different bush than the one he had tried first, one with fewer thorns on it. Looking around one of the trellises, he saw a miniature rose, with delicate stems. Perfect.

Cavendish crouched down next to the plant and deliberated which bloom he wanted. But before he had even begun to consider them, he was distracted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He turned in annoyance, ready to tell whoever it was that he was the Pirate Prince and they would address him accordingly, and stopped short when he saw who it was.

It was strange seeing Rebecca in something other than her gold-scale armour and boots. She did look beautiful in a dress even if it wasn't practical, but he was pleased to see that her sword was still close by. She would always be a warrior before a princess to him, and seeing her unarmed would be truly unnerving. It took him a moment to realize she was smiling at him in an amused way, and to remember that he was awkwardly crouched next to a garden shrub.

She didn't say anything when he stood and rearranged his coat carefully, and Cavendish practically basked in her gaze. She was looking at him again, and there was no one around to get in the way. The bench she was sitting on was on a section of stonework and he sat gracefully on the ground next to her, glad that he didn't have to worry about grass-stains. Crossing his arms he leaned on her knees, smiling up at her. Rebecca blushed, and he beamed. That was the most he had ever gotten out of her for a reaction. He flipped his hair, making sure it was arranged to his best advantage.

"Um…What are you doing?"

"I'm enjoying your undivided attention."

He got a bit of a sceptical look from her for that comment, even though it was perfectly true, and he chuckled. She always treated his more extravagant lines with a certain amount of incredulity, which was fine by him; he preferred it to the women who fainted. Not that he could ever see her fainting over him, considering all the things she had so stoically endured. Strong and beautiful, they were such a perfect match.

Rebecca sighed after he finished his quiet laughing, and tilted the brim of his hat up.

"And what do you want with my 'undivided attention'?"

"I want it forever." Cavendish said, taking one of her hands kissing it. And highly amused at her blush and incoherent exclamation, he gave her a wink for good measure.

"Or do I have to say pretty please first?"


End file.
